


Apple of His Eye

by Sholio



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Banter, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-25 08:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17722139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/pseuds/Sholio
Summary: A little snippet of post-canon life in L.A.





	Apple of His Eye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [useyourtelescope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/useyourtelescope/gifts).



"Please tell me you haven't been here all night."

Daniel looked up from his typewriter and rubbed bleary eyes. "No, just came in early to try to get some paperwork done." He took in Peggy's slightly disheveled appearance, beautiful and a little bit wild, especially with the borderline-manic gleam of victory in her eyes. "You look like you've put in a full day's work already. Did _you_ go home last night?"

"No, but it doesn't matter, for I have just returned from arresting a murderer in Beverly Hills," Peggy declared cheerfully. "You'll recall the one the press was calling the Snow White killer?"

"Yeah -- two victims in comas, two more dead."

"We got her," Peggy said, plopping down on the edge of his desk. Up close he could see the faint red mark of a bruise on her cheek and some smudging of her usually tidy makeup; she'd clearly been in a fight. He didn't ask if she was all right; there was every reason to think the other person had gotten by far the worst of it. 

"We even found the latest murder weapon," Peggy went on. "Attempted murder, rather, in this case."

"Are you _joking,"_ Daniel said when she set a bright red apple on the desk, with a single bite taken out of it.

"Regrettably, I am not. It's been injected with cyanide. Fortunately, the intended victim noted the bitter almond flavor and spat it out, which led to her killer trying to strangle her, and that was when we showed up."

"You didn't happen to arrest seven short guys too, did you?"

"No, just Snow White."

"I thought Snow White was supposed to be the victim, not the killer."

"It's a twist ending, I suppose." Peggy swung her leg, tapping the back of her heel against the desk in a quick rhythmic patter. "She was taking out other actresses competing for the same parts. They say show business is cutthroat, but this is taking the adage rather literally."

"Just ask Rose. She sees some real nutjobs at the talent agency."

"Well, Snow White has been turned over to the police. No need for us to continue with the case this time, as it turns out she's simply a resourceful killer with a background in chemistry and not anyone -- shall we say --"

"Weird?"

"No more so than usual for Hollywood, in any case." Peggy put the apple back in the paper bag she'd been carrying it in -- it was labeled in block printing, Daniel now noticed, POISON APPLE DO NOT EAT -- and leaned across the desk, her hair swishing in somewhat frazzled curls. "And what are _you_ working on?"

Daniel blew out a breath and rolled the sheet of paper out of the typewriter. "Still working my way through the paperwork on the Masters thing and Thompson's shooting and all of that."

"On that? Still? It's been months. Jack's back in New York."

"Tell that to the Congressional oversight committee. Sometimes I feel like I'll be doing paperwork on that case until the day I die." He looked up at her face a mere few inches from his own, glanced out the window of his office into the bullpen where the day shift hadn't begun to trickle in yet, and then stole a quick kiss from her slightly smudged red lips. "Peggy," he said when he drew back, "go get some sleep, why don't you. You look beat."

"I'm quite wide awake, thank you. I should just run this apple down to -- er --" He could see the exact moment when her train of thought suddenly rerouted to a different track.

"The police station, where it belongs?"

"I suppose ... there is a possibility," Peggy admitted, "that I might have forgotten it was no longer our case when I walked off with this."

Daniel grinned helplessly at her. He liked watching Peggy wind herself up on a Mission (it usually deserved the capital letters), but there was something impossibly adorable about this side of her too, the post-mission drop of adrenaline crash ... all the more so because he knew that not many people ever got to see her like this. "Tell you what," he said, taking the paper bag from her hand. "I'll have a junior agent run it down there. You just get yourself back to Howard's."

Peggy slid off his desk, but all she did was relocate to the couch in the corner of his office and flop down.

"Peggy."

"Just resting my eyes," Peggy said, and closed them.

"Peggy ..."

Daniel, after a moment, got up and came around the edge of the desk. He closed the office door and, on his way back to his desk, reached for the suit jacket slung over the back of a chair. He carefully arranged it over Peggy, who didn't stir, and stayed to brush a stray lock of hair back from the corner of her eye, his fingers sweeping across the reddened trace of the bruise with infinite tenderness. She didn't even twitch.

He limped back to the desk and set the paper bag to one side with the POISON APPLE DO NOT EAT warning prominently displayed to avoid any unfortunate incidents before he could get it safely stowed in a police evidence locker. Then he cranked another sheet of paper into the typewriter.

Peggy, on the couch, slept on, and occasionally snored a bit.

There were times, Daniel thought, when you wanted no more from life than this: a completely ridiculous piece of evidence from a case that could only happen in Tinseltown, paperwork for a case that was going to haunt him until the day he died, and the woman he loved sleeping in the corner, occasionally making little grunting snores. He had no complaints.


End file.
